


Wavering Faith

by WAMozart



Category: Alternative Universe - Fandom, Classical Music RPF, Haydn - Fandom, Historical AU - Fandom, Historical Fiction, Historical RPF, Mozart - Fandom, Steampunk - Fandom
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Gen, Plague, outbreak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WAMozart/pseuds/WAMozart
Summary: It was just another day in steam-powered 18th century Vienna, when a disastrous accident happened at the ViroTech Labs, a virus research corporation headquartered just a few blocks down from the Burgtheatre, during the winter of 1782-1783. A bio-hazardous waste disposal unit had suddenly malfunctioned, and triggered a mass explosion that killed nearly all of the scientists involved in research of a rare strain of a rabies virus to turn it into a possible dementia cure, releasing contaminated gas and causing a leakage of the highly-infectious virus itself from its confinement. Those who survived the initial blast immediately transformed into bio-mutants, and began to wreak havoc in the outer world. Wolfgang Amade Mozart was just about to present one of his newest compositions to the Emperor...and now it had been cut short.Now, he, along certain other high-ranking court musicians in the area, are tasked by the Emperor himself with determining the root cause of the explosion, bringing the question of why they were specifically chosen to perform such a daunting task...Will Mozart's well-being be fortified by the hardships he face...or will he succumb to the madness of conspiracies surrounding his organization?
Relationships: None
Kudos: 4





	Wavering Faith

The atmosphere of the yellow fog-covered city was weighing down upon me, as if I was holding the world upon my shoulders. The blistering cold of the winter of this year, 1783, is certainly not helping my temperament.

Shrieks and feral grunts echoed through the alleyways of what was once a bustling plaza in Vienna, the musical capital of the Holy Roman Empire. My most recent home-city to date, now turned into dangerous territory shared between mutants and humans.

I was forced to abandon my career as a freelance musician and composer, because there would be no use of such entertainment if the whole continent was at stake. I am now what one would call a “mutant hunter”, someone who is assigned to mercy-kill those who have lost their humanity to the “yellow fog”. I don’t know why the Emperor had sought me out of all people to go hunt those mutants down, along with other musicians of my caliber, but I suspect that it is because I have ties to a specific organization like the others, which would make better sense. 

I spend most of my free time with the Clockwork Lodge, a secret organization whose beliefs tie around the existence of our Sole Father bringing peace when a great calamity strikes the greater public. The masons themselves are the ones directly carrying out His deeds, being a part of His Family, believing that He would communicate with us on what to do when such crises strike and thus, enlighten those who have not known about the threat, like per say, “Chosen Ones.” My friend and mentor Joseph Haydn had explained to me not too long ago that he himself cannot hear His Voice, for the Master Mason is the only one who can directly communicate and hear Him, and so the rest of the members get their orders from them. 

Our Master Mason is, from what I've heard by the higher-ranking members' rumors, the oldest member of the guild. No one seemed to know how our Master Mason looks like, nor do they even know his name directly, because the Master himself coops himself in his "Sanctuary". Even if they do know his name, they didn't want to disclose it to the rest of us. Whether it was out of fear, or just extreme secrecy is unknown to me. The only details I've heard about the Master Mason is that he is responsible for the stability of the Lodge, the one keeping us in line after half our members had defected from us to form the rival guild faction, the Crimson Council. 

Perhaps one day, I may get to meet him. But I do not know when that time will come. 

The "Clockwork" label came from the fact that we use specialized weaponry that focus on great precision and power, their shapes loosely based on some of the clock-like futuristic designs of Da Vinci, but enhanced by today's steam technology. They can be considered by those few who know of the organization’s existence as the Empire’s "secret" arsenal.

Ever since the laboratory accident that happened a few months ago at ViroTech Labs, all that has ever come of it was sorrow, and pain. Many people I have known thus far have been infected by the rampant mutagenic pathogen that quickly took over the air I formerly had freely breathed in. One breath in of the foul yellow fog, and one was already doomed. Fortunately, I have myself a gas mask to filter out the airborne pathogens, but it rendered me unrecognizable until I opened my mouth to speak. 

It pains me greatly to see some of the good people of Vienna transform into these...beasts, as they are merely going about their businesses. The virus mutates its hosts as they are still alive, and thus are not considered true zombies. The warning of the laboratory leakage was long given out, but some of the people did not heed the instructions, and therefore, suffered the gruesome consequences. Those who did have barred themselves within their own homes, and have been continually supplied by His Majesty Joseph II, who has been trying to remediate the virus outbreak within the eastern half of Austria, albeit to a limited degree. I can only hope that his efforts are enough to prevent it from affecting the rest of the country, and perhaps the continent. After all, His Majesty is in command of the Holy Roman Empire that encompasses my Fatherland. 

Everyone’s lives are resting upon his shoulders. If he falls, the whole Empire would fall. The whole world will fall. 

By limited degree...I do mean that not all families in this city are so fortunate, as certain financial thresholds do not seem to qualify for the care provided by the monarchy. Nearly every few minutes...one or more bodies are taken out of their home, presumably those who have starved to death, or those who have contracted the virus, and did not survive the slow, gruesome transformation into...one of those spiny mutants, or shot to death as they were just beginning to turn. I had pleaded to the Emperor to encompass not just those who could afford to have the care provided to them, but alas, he merely told me that the government doesn't have many supplies to spare for the large Viennese population, as he had to "take care of the other cities as well." It did piss me off a bit when he had said so, but what can one do if they are not in the proper, high position to convince him?

At least there are some lock-down restrictions going about...but what use is there of the lock-down if the virus spreads by potent gas? Could towering walls stop the fallout from spreading? I doubt it. There is nothing in existence that could forcibly stave off the fog. All we could do for now...is to wait it out. I can almost count it as some kind of biological weapon, due to its immense fallout range.

Perhaps it indeed is one. The effects are weaponizing the Viennese people in gruesome ways. Mutating them against their will. If the gas gets contaminated by these viral particles, it gets passed down to its victims through respiration and in turn could pass it on themselves if they make contact with untainted flesh. Just breathing, unprotected, near the victims, could pass the virus on. The doctors have officially dubbed it the “V-Virus”, short for “Vienna Virus”. Locals have dubbed it simply as “The Yellow Fog of Death.” What's left of them, anyways.

Watching a scene developing before me, it seemed that some of the transitioning victims' own family members killed these poor souls before the transformations were even complete, as a majority of the bodies had either gaping gunshot wounds, or messy stab wounds to their heart, as well as the telltale characteristics of the virus changing their bodies, starting at the accelerated necrosis of their mouths and sharpening of the teeth. The scene was...revolting. Painful. Torturous. I quickly looked away, in a feeble attempt to forget what I have just seen.

The most recent victim was a woman, who had just fallen to the effects of the fog, with a gaping wound to her partially-transformed head. The masked and plastic-cloaked authorities who had picked up the recently-dead body were accompanied by her tearful husband and two children--all masked and cloaked themselves, the husband holding a pistol in his shaking hand, and covering the eyes of the two children with his other free arm, implying that he was the one who had mercy-killed her. The children were wailing like lost puppies without their mother. They've become exactly what I had just described them to be. 

Truly, nothing is more painful than quickly losing your family to tragedy. Especially one that brings a fate worse than death itself.

I fear for my family’s safety in Salzburg. The smell of death is overwhelming. However...I cannot return just yet, for the quarantine had locked me and the others completely within the borders of Vienna's city-state. Anyone who would dare venture out during the lock-down would be promptly shot down by the Emperor's authorities at the very borders, regardless if they were infected or not. Some unfortunate, but desperate souls have attempted to do so in secret, but was found out by the authorities nonetheless. Emperor Joseph II has his eyes everywhere. Under, above, in between, through, around. No one can escape. 

The Emperor himself seems to associate with us quite closely, as many in his ranks are a member of the Lodge. The only signs that tell them of their membership with the Clockwork Masons is an emblem that features a compass arching over a two-headed eagle, attached to their coats or ceremonial shoulder belts signifying their protective role in the Empire, and their special, unique handshakes when greeting each other. Of course, every member is required to wear the badge at all times so they wouldn’t mistake each other for the common folk. 

Soon, I heard the quick footsteps of my mentor, racing towards me, breaking my trance.

"Wolfgang...ah, there you are! I have been looking for you through this...blasted fog!" he announced. The gas mask on his face had the same empirical emblem engraved into it as mine.

"Papa Haydn! It is quite relieving to see you at this time!" I embraced him as he came close. 

"And I must say the same to you, Wolfie." Haydn responded, elated, patting my shoulders. "You have no idea about the childlike joy I experience upon setting my eyes upon you!"

As I examined his attire from head to toe, I noticed that he was wearing a similar leather-clad trench as mine. It seemed to have more layers, however, as well as it being longer than mine. He was wearing what looked to be thin bronze plating on his shoulders, forearms, and chest, compared to my own thicker silver plating in a similar configuration. 

Characteristics of a Kriegmeister. 

"Papa...you have been assigned as Kriegmeister?"

"I was going to express that to you just now, hence why I have made haste to meet you. The Emperor had found some use in my knowledge of the steam-powered technology that was released to the public just a decade ago. So then...I was assigned to be your personal weapons-smith, since you yourself are assigned to...well--mercy-kill those mutants like some of the others."

A personal weapons-smith? For me? No...this is too good to be true.

"W-Why me? This has to be some kind of cruel joke by His Majesty. I'm not a stranger to his strange...habits." I remarked, nervously laughing. Haydn only chortled in response.

"Oh no no, Herr Mozart. I can assure you that he seemed quite serious about it all. Since I'm a friend of yours, and you were quite the charmer in his courts, he figured that I may be a suitable…'right-hand man' to you. After all, he has been desperate."

He then directed his gaze at the dual-revolvers in their sheaths on my leather belt. Frankly, their firepower had become a bit less effective as the mutants seemingly became harder and harder to kill, as if the virus itself was becoming more resilient as the victims' exposure lengthened. 

Having a "right-hand man", though...that was something new. The situation is dire enough in that assigned hunters need to go in pairs now. 

"Hmm...I can already tell you need an upgrade yourself." he inspected, pointing at the two revolvers on my belt. 

"No shit! These damn things won't even fall with a .44 Magnum to their heads!" I retorted. "I had to use 2 or 3 of them just to bring them down to their knees now. What a waste, I say."

"See! His Majesty knows when you need someone like me to help you with upgrading your firepower." Haydn chuckled. He then grabbed onto my arm, and gestured to follow him. 

I must admit...sometimes he lets his ego get a hold of him once in a while. But then again...a good ego just might be necessary for one to not go insane during these situations.

"Come, Herr Mozart. I have something to show you! I can assure you, you will be amazed."

"New guns?"

"Maybe."

Excited, I ran alongside him upon the road that led to his home. As we turned a corner, however...we were interrupted by a loud inhuman shriek, followed by a crackling thud from behind us.

"What the hell--?!"

The sound was loud enough to make us both stumble, and fall to the ground onto our knees and hands. Out of overwhelming curiosity, I peered towards the source of the sound.

The scene before me nearly made me sick to the stomach. Even though my mask was still being worn on my face, I felt the need to cover my mouth out of instinct.

I had just witnessed a mutant...mutating further.

I could only watch in silent horror as the mutant flailed about on the ground, as if something was eating them from the inside. Suddenly...one of its arms began to bulge and convulse violently in a matter that...quite literally ripped the skin and its coat sleeve off from its jerking movements. Soon afterwards...the rest of its body followed...its sudden growth tearing off what remained of their upper clothes. It arched back violently as I witnessed its growing spine tear some of the skin off its back from the pressure, and its torso dramatically bulged upwards, ripping some of the tightened skin of its chest, revealing muscle fibers underneath, and thick bone-like spikes broke through its muscles. The sounds of its body growing in such an excessive, bursting manner, as well as its screams and shrieks of pain...it was utterly repulsing, and almost...tragic. As if the sounds were a sign that the man who once stood in the place of the mutant no longer held onto his human rationale, descending to merely pure self-preservation and bestial instincts like that of an animal fighting for its life. 

I’m pretty sure that the body had already died, given the circumstances on how this man transformed so brutally...only animated by the puppetry of the monstrous virus from within. 

_Father, tell me...what the hell is in that pathogen?_

Blood was everywhere. The stones under the mutant were coated with its blood, and a rotting, copper stench was strong in the air. I glanced at its tattered clothes on the ground…

They were of a court musician's attire.

The black and gold were the colors to signify musicians in the Emperor's service.

"Wolfgang, stay back--!" I heard Haydn scream. “This Walker...he had been infected for too long and had become a Behemoth--!”

A Behemoth…that name is befitting of its nature. That man had devolved into a dangerous, grotesque mass of pulsating muscle and bones now.

I...could not handle to watch the scene any further, and retched. I felt Haydn’s arm shoving me back. I was in such a shock that I simply laid there...frozen for a brief time, unable to make sense of what had suddenly transpired.

Gunshots rang in the air about me. They were Haydn's guns. Possibly some others, as well. 

Thank the Father the Emperor's masked guards happened to be patrolling on the street we were just on. I saw a couple of them join Haydn when he had initiated the fight.

Fueled by adrenaline, I instinctively pulled out the revolvers that were given to me by the Emperor, and began to join in the fray myself. 

I shot at the mutant unceasingly. I no longer cared if my bullets would run out. 

I must put this fellow musician out of his misery. 

The towering, bulging mutant fought with such ferocity that it had knocked two of the Emperor's patrolmen aside with such ease, and it killed them instantaneously, shattering their skulls against the stones. Its eyes seemed to glow with the fury of a mindless beast.

Some higher-ranking men have heard the commotion, and came out from their respective posts to help us and the others to bring down the feral mutant. They took out what looked to be tanky Gatling guns, and flung them around their shoulders with little effort, and began shooting away at the Behemoth, dotting its entire body with bullets. Trained professionals, indeed. 

_That beast is not faltering at all. How--?!_ I thought to myself in a panic, watching as the mutant began to charge towards them, unfazed by the rounds of fire batting it through. It soon grabbed another guard… and ate his head off, mask and all...throwing the headless body away like a rag-doll. Some of the guards who had witnessed the monster tearing the man’s head off could not help but to drop their weapons, and flee from it, forcing only me, Haydn, and some of the braver guards to try and fend off the Behemoth. 

As I managed to shoot a few well-placed bullets into its back, it then reared its head to direct its attention to me.

_Shit--_

I narrowly dodged its clawed swing attack. What came next was more horrifying than anything I have seen before in my entire life.

Its tongue slithered out of its mouth...but it wasn’t an ordinary tongue. It was mutated beyond recognition, acting as the mutant’s second mouth, lined with bloodied, shark-like teeth, seemingly having a mind of its own. It extended for me. I braced myself for what was to come--

Then...it paused in mid-strike. It began to shriek, and I could see how its body began to convulse in a similar manner as its transformation just mere minutes ago. But...something felt different. Its blood vessels began to bulge and pulsate from within its skin, quickly filling themselves with what looked like a black substance.

_Poison…?_

It quickly stumbled back, gripping its abdominal area...then its head. I stepped back and watched as its body...seemingly betrayed itself...and it happened.

It suddenly exploded, showering me with what remained of its flesh, and the strange black substance within it. The force was so great that it propelled me several feet backwards, making me slide and roll across the cobblestone in a rough manner. My head rang like a million church organs were playing a chord all at the same time. It had nearly blinded and deafened me. Shrapnel flew towards my direction, sending a barrage of pain down my entire body. 

_I could’ve sworn that I saw fire._

Thank the Father, the mask I wear is tight enough to not fall off so easily. But fuck! Everything is hurting--!

Trying to focus on my surroundings as I laid on the ground in pain, I saw the familiar visage of Haydn with a wide-eyed expression of shock, approaching me. 

“Wolfgang...a-are you alright?! Please, talk to me!” I heard him yell to me. It felt like he was a long distance away from me.

“It...it exploded.” I heard, somewhere behind him. 

I saw a moment’s hesitation in Haydn’s eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he had witnessed himself.

“You’re...bleeding--!”

Before I could respond, I passed out.

=========================================================================

I’ve awakened within a room...filled with what looked to be gadgets of various shapes and sizes strung up near the ceiling. The sounds of a large clock’s tolling of its bells invited me...a warm, cozy feeling. I could hear the sounds of something metallic being tinkered about in the dimly-lit room. The general atmosphere was...almost homely. I could also smell what seemed to be beef stew, cooking somewhere in the house. I relished in the long-needed warmth.

I still felt light-headed, however. The ringing in my head seemed to persist numbly, but it is greatly dulled compared to the cacophony I felt right before I blacked out. 

A window towards the front side of the room faced towards the dark desolate streets of Vienna, the eerie sirens and shrieks of the recently-mutated muffled through the glass. It was nighttime already. 

Such sounds have become a daily occurrence. I’ve grown insensitive to them. I attempted to lever myself up on the bed, but a sharp pain soon coursed through my lower back. 

“Aagggh--!” My scream echoed through the room.

I immediately fell back into place. Good God...all I can remember is that some kind of explosion has happened before this. My head felt warm...and it stung dully. I placed my hand upon the wrapped cloth on my head, and blood found itself upon my fingers. Was I injured that badly...? How much shrapnel had managed to pierce through the leather of my tight mask…?

“Ah--! Herr Mozart, you’re awake. Your face was covered in the wounds inflicted by the shrapnel. Please don’t strain yourself now by getting up too quickly. Your Kuttlflecksuppe is nearly ready.” A female voice called out to me. I could barely make out the silhouette of a house-maiden looking down at me, holding the roll of bandages that I assumed she used to nurse my injuries. I tried to clear my vision to get a closer look at the unfamiliar figure, but I couldn't have the energy to keep my eyes open. I closed my eyes once more, briefly.

"Where...where am I, Frau?" I asked, my voice broken from what I presume to have been a long time without speaking.

"You're in Herr Haydn's workshop. While you were passed out, we washed the mutant guts off you, and placed you here...where you rested for nearly 9 hours. Your clothes have also been washed, m'Lord."

Haydn's workshop. A welcoming phrase. At least we're safe.

"9...hours?" I asked, shocked at the time I have been out cold. "What...time is it now?"

"Its almost 9 in the evening." The house-maiden spoke calmly.

There wasn't a need for the maiden to be so...submissively formal, but I let it pass so as to not cause any unwanted confusion. As I tried to straighten myself up yet again--this time, slowly, the details of where I had been resting became more clearer. Everywhere I looked...there was a strange invention of sorts, incomplete and complete, following the similar aesthetics of the things I see in the lodges of the Clockwork Lodge. Visible turning gears in clocks, sounds of seemingly-impractical machines doing what they were designed for, and blueprints for obscure designs of armor and weapons were scattered about. 

I nearly forgot how much of a disorganized experimenter Papa Haydn is...especially when he is not doing his usual work. His child-like curiosity overshadowed that inventor part of him, but I nonetheless marvel at the many things that he himself had created, impractical as some of them might be. 

“Ahah! It is done! They look marvelous. Wolfgang, pray, have a glance. Frau Liesel, thank you for tending to my good friend's injuries. You've patched them up quite well. You shall be dismissed from the room, m'Lady.”

"You're welcome, Master Haydn." The maiden, Liesel, spoke as she curtsied to him and left the room.

I look to Herr Haydn as my true father figure, hence the intimate "Papa". I have always been, since I moved here into Vienna nearly a year ago. Strange how people with similar ideologies can get so close so quickly, like brothers in arms...but Haydn is my one and only true friend. 

“What is it, Papa Haydn? Is it one of your strange little contraptions again?” I chuckled. 

“Oh, Wolf. It’s not just a contraption. This one--or shall I say...these things, have good use.”

He then picked up the two similar-looking devices and ran over to me, excited to present his creations to me. 

“This one...I shall call the Dual Bronze-Gilded Revolvers. I can assure you, the firepower on these bad boys are unrivaled. Tweaked delicately by Yours Truly.” Haydn remarked, bowing slightly, revealing his creation to me.

I gasped in absolute awe at the handiwork of the exquisite bronze-inlaid guns. Taking them into my hands, I examined the intricate golden rococo designs on the grips of the guns. 

The dual revolvers seemed to whirl with life on their own, the gear-work on the rear sight and hammer clicking ever so steadily as I examined the barrel with great care, so as to not accidentally break the delicately-mended structure. The guns felt light...and yet solid. Just the kind I would use to hunt down hostile mutants with ease. The aesthetic clock-like ticking of the gun’s inner brass mechanism was characteristic of many of the Clockwork weapons that I had seen in the Lodges. 

“Papa...how…?”

“So...what do you think, Wolfgang?” He cheerfully asked. 

“I...I cannot describe just how much I absolutely adore these!” 

His hearty laugh rang throughout the expansive room.

“You may test these...after you recover from your injuries, of course.” He remarked. “I feel like I could tweak a few more things on them though. Don’t want any... _loose screws_ on them, do you?”

I looked at him with a dead-panned look. 

“That...was a horrible joke.”

“Isn’t every joke of mine horrible? Haha!”

Sighing out of exasperation, I finally mustered enough energy to fully arise from my bed. The bandages on my head and waist rubbed uncomfortably against my skin. When I managed to get a closer look at Haydn’s face, his expression quickly turned solemn.

“W-What’s wrong?” I inquired, meekly.

“You know...it was by my hands that the...Behemoth we fought earlier exploded.”

My eyes widened in shock.

“You...you were the one who dealt the finishing blow? That explosion was orchestrated by you?”

“Y-Yes…” Haydn quietly responded. “The bullets I shot into its body released a kind of metallic toxin into its bloodstreams, causing a chain reaction that made the body basically...attack itself.”

“Well...isn’t that a good thing? That it finally killed the monster?” I asked, confused about his tone. 

“Yes, but...I didn’t intend for the shrapnel of whatever remained of the bullets’ shells to affect you. Injure you in a manner that you are right now. It wasn’t supposed to do that.” He continued. “They were supposed to dissolve as they release the toxins into the body… so whatever is left of the bullets wouldn’t affect those who happen to be too close to it when it explodes.”

Fear began to grip my mind. What did he mean? Impatience boiling from within me, I stood up and briskly walked to where he was to inquire my mentor further.

“S-So? What about the leftovers that were so dangerous, as you are implying?!” I shouted, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. I was desperate to know the answer. I quickly held my annoyance back, however, when his expression changed to fear. I shouldn't have let my emotions get the better of me. 

“H-Herr Mozart...the shells were made of lead. That is why I’m worried about you bleeding right now.”

My jaw dropped to the floor. Lead is a poisonous metal. Once a certain amount gets into the bloodstream...for normal humans, illness in the brain follows closely. Especially when it is high in concentration.

“You...you can’t be serious.” I muttered. 

“Why would I lie to you?”

No longer able to think straight after this sudden revelation, I sat down on the empty chair, holding my head upon my hands, distraught at the news I had received. 

“Why...why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I’m sorry, Wolfgang. I truly am...I really didn’t think it would come to this. We need to get to an apothecary to detoxify your blood, quickly, or you will lose your sanity in a matter of a few days. Come now, let us go and meet at the dinner table. After that, we will be heading out.”

**Author's Note:**

> English was a lot more formal in the real life 18th century, but since this is a more modernized version of the 18th century (which could have been the result if the Library of Alexandria wasn’t burned down), the English is much more reminiscent of the English we speak today. Hence a few modern-day slangs had come through. It would still have a bit of a nuance though, of course.
> 
> Things like steam-powered technology would have been invented much earlier than what was recorded, as well as other things that came into existence after the 18th century of real life, so consider this version of the 18th century to have the technology of the mid-late Industrial Revolution, with some futuristic undertones.
> 
> If you're wondering, yes. The technological advances in the 18th century of this alternate universe are due to the Library of Alexandria having never been burnt.


End file.
